


Nightmare Venom

by Dorktapus42



Series: Shapeshifter! Cecil [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angst, Anxiety, Betrayal I guess, Crossover, Flashback, Hallucinations, Hearing! Impaired Carlos, Hydra, I'm probably over-warning but better safe than sorry, M/M, Needles, Protective Khoshekh, SHIELD, Shapeshifter! Cecil, Stark is kinda an asshole in this sorry, dammit hydra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-25
Updated: 2019-06-25
Packaged: 2020-05-19 09:30:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19354237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dorktapus42/pseuds/Dorktapus42
Summary: Cecil gets interrogated by SHIELD on a vacation from Nightvale.Of course, it all goes horribly wrong.





	Nightmare Venom

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2!  
> You will need to read the first one in this series for this to make all that much sense, but it's about the same lines as this one angst-wise, so if you don't do well with descriptions of enclosed spaces or general anxiety and panic and stuff I highly recommend going and reading something else, as this series is probably not for you. I do thank you for checking this out though! Happy reading!

Cecil walked out of the train station, Khoshekh meowing unhappily in the cat carrier slung over his shoulder.

Oh dear. He should have guessed this one wouldn’t have held up very well. The acid ate through these things like bullets through problems.

He’d have to get a new one on the way to his hotel. 

But where-

A car smoothly drove up in front of him. 

The tinted window lowered- also smoothly. Smoothly. That was an interesting word for an uninterrupted expanse of movement on a rock hurtling through the void of space. 

“Mr. Palmer? Cecil Palmer?” The man- he could see that they were a man- was wearing a dull black suit. Boring corporate type. Kind eyes.

“Yes?”

There was a pause from inside before the back window facing him opened, revealing a redhead and a man in a purple hoodie. 

“We’re here on the behalf of SHIELD. There’s a… how do I put this…”

The redhead took over bluntly. “There’s strange energy readings coming from your bag. And all around you. Do you mind if we take you in for questioning?”

Would he mind? Or, rather, was it a question of whether he minded that they would take him in anyways? As good as he was at evading vague yet menacing government agencies he didn’t really have the energy or time to do at that moment. Although time was in itself inherently fluid, he needed to get a new carrier for Khoshekh. 

“Can we get a cat carrier on the way?”

 

\----------

 

He sat in the back in silence, cat carrier on his lap. 

The driver was apparently called Coulson. Hoodie called him Phil. Redhead called Hoodie Clint. Clint called Redhead Natasha. 

Muted music played through the radio. 

He casually tapped into the radiowaves to listen. Being the voice of a town had its extra perks.

Not his usual style, but…

“Whoever chose the music has decent musical tastes.”

There was a moment of silence before Clint spoke. 

“I thought it was muted? Am I just not picking that up?” One hand moved towards his ears automatically. Hearing aids. Ooh, those were nice and compact. Carlos would love those...

“No, it’s muted. How did you know what was playing?”

His brain was stuck on a one track circuit. “Where did you get those hearing aids? They’re remarkably compact.” Carlos would love those- he’d resorted to having to build his for the longest time…

Clint shifted uncomfortably. Coulson filled the silence. 

“SHIELD designed them. Why, are you interested in them?”

Cecil spoke distractedly as he realized the acid was slowly seeping through his jeans. “My boyfriend uses them. He’s ended up building his for the longest time because he can’t find ones compact enough for his convenience.” He was broken off by a meow from Khoshekh. “I know Khoshekh, I’ll find a carrier soon. Poor thing’s not used to carriers. The acid goes straight through them. Would you mind if I take him out?”

“ _ Acid? _ ”

“What exactly do you have in there?”

Cecil blinked. “What else would I have in a cat carrier?”

“A dunno… some weird mutated squirrel? A monster truck with a bad engine?”

“A _ cat. _ Khoshekh is a  _ cat _ .”

“Cats don’t create acid. Or sound like… that.”

He scoffed and unzipped the carrier, carefully lifting out Khoshekh to set him gently on top of the mangled mess of nylon. 

“I don’t know what cats you have seen, but this one does. Those traits are reportedly very normal for his species.”

“ _ WHAT IS THAT?! _ ”

“Khoshekh, my cat. Would you like to pet him? I’d be aware of the poisonous back spines. And the feathers. And the chest tongues. And the fur cusp. It’s rather sticky. And the venom sacks. And his left eye- it’s not quite healed yet. One more molting and it should be back to normal. His paw’s doing pretty well from what I see, but you might want to be careful of that too.”

He scratched behind the cat’s ears in the midst of a silence only punctured by Khoshekh’s loud purr. 

“That is not a cat.”

Coulson spoke for the first time in several minutes. 

“We’re here.”

 

\-----------

 

He was ushered into a questioning room. A signature one-way mirror was on one wall. A pair of steel cuffs were laying on the table. 

You would have thought that a vague yet menacing government agency would have better interrogation rooms.

It was cold. He was not used to that. Everything was so cold here- that was probably what he should have expected, growing up in a desert community all his life, but some things were not to be expected even in the best of circumstances.

He distracted himself between petting Khoshekh and repeatedly snapping the cuffs around his wrists and getting out of them. 

The door opened and one of the agents from outside came in. Coulson. 

He caught a glimpse of Redhead and Clint from the car before it snapped shut.

Khoshekh looked at him before flopping back down on the table so Cecil could pet his belly. 

“What is… he?”

“He, yes. Khoshekh is a cat.”

Coulson sat on the other end of the table and blinked at Khoshekh. “What kind of cat?”

“You know, I don’t actually know. But he purrs like a cat, rubs his face against my hand like a cat, meows like a cat, and has the general air of a cat, so he is most likely a cat. Would you like to pet him?”

Khoshekh looked towards Coulson and padded closer, rubbing his face against his chin. Oh- that was a most entertaining face the agent made. 

“I assume you have questions?”

 

\---------

 

“So you come from… Nightvale, was it?”

“Yes. It’s a lovely little desert community-”

He was cut off by loud, blaring alarms. 

Coulson let out a sigh as the alarm droned on. Cecil could hear a scuffling of agents outside the room. It must be quite the emergency. 

“I’ll have another agent watch over you, Cecil.”

Before he could so much of anything the room was cleared and he was left alone with his cat. 

He gave a little slump and returned to petting Khoshekh. “I do hope they get you a carrier soon.”

All he received was a meow and a headbut along the cheekbone. 

Awwww…

It was a shame that chat had ended so early though. 

For an interrogation it had been rather friendly.

 

\----------

 

An agent was sent in, apparently named Garret.

He was too busy playing with Khoshekh to notice the small device plugged into the wall on the other side of the mirror. The single camera in the ceiling shorting out and dying.

What he did notice was the agent letting himself in. 

“I have a proposition for you, Cecil.”

The hand petting Khoshekh stilled. 

Something didn’t feel right. 

“What sort of proposition?”

“A… job offer.”

“I already have a job, thank you very much.” His voice grew slightly clipped. Garret smiled.

He didn’t like that smile. 

“I think I can change your mind. Do you have a family, Cecil?”

That uneasiness only grew as he shifted his weight in the chair. 

“Yes.”

“Well if I were you, I’d want to help my family in any way possible, right?”

The agent walked closer, one hand resting on the back of the chair Coulson had left about half an hour earlier. 

Cecil’s left foot slowly came to rest on the ground. Ready to push off. 

“I suppose so, yes.”

Garret came closer, fiddling with his watch. 

“Well then. My offer will help that family of yours accomplish anything they desire- be that financial stability, jobs, or healthcare. Do we have a deal?”

The muscles in his legs tensed. Ready for flight. 

“I believe I will have to politely decline, thank you.”

Another smile as Garret slid the watch off of his wrist, flipping it over in his fingers. 

“Oh, there’s no need to do that, Cecil.”

The hand holding the watch came to rest on top of the hand sitting on the table. 

There was a quick intake of breath from Cecil’s end as something sharp dug into his hand. 

“I’ll give you a few minutes to reconsider, shall I?”

One finger moved-

And he felt something cold emanating from where the hidden needle imbued in the watch had pierced him. 

The watch left his hand, which refused to move no matter how hard he tried to move it. 

In fact, none of his limbs would comply.

His eyes widened. 

“What did you just inject me with.”

And although his voice brokered no room for argument Garret laughed. 

“Oh, just something to make you reconsider. The paralysis should wear off momentarily.”

The agent sat across from him. 

“I think it’ll be interesting, seeing what happens. Judging by the chemical makeup, you should get very vivid hallucinations in about fifteen seconds, after a brief period of full-body spasms. Lovely, isn’t it? I call it Nightmare Venom.”

He took a small syringe out of his jacket pocket and wiggled it. 

“And I have the only antidote.”

Cecil’s heart started to hammer. His hands clenched without his command. 

“Give me the antidote.”

“It’s not going to be that easy.”

“ _ GIVE IT! _ ”

Just as he shouted that his body gave a great jerk and fell out of the chair. 

Garret continued to smile blandly as Khoshekh jumped off the table to run to his side. 

_ Water.  _

_ Water everywhere.  _

_ It streamed in through the floor, the ceiling, the walls- _

It was like he was back in the tunnels with Carlos all over again. 

He felt his back press against something- a wall? A corner?

But the water just kept flowing-

He frantically looked around in terror, pupils dilated to pinprick slits. 

Khoshekh yowled at Garret before looking between his friend and his enemy, claws and acid digging into the floor. 

Cecil’s hands started to shake as his arms, wrapped around himself as they were, strained to contain his expanding shoulders. 

Water poured around him as Garret paled. 

Khoshekh leapt towards the man as Cecil tipped over into a ball, falling to the ground as Khoshekh caused the man to drop the syringe and watch onto the floor with a clatter in his haste to run out of the room. 

Soon alarms blared through the room as Khoshekh tried to calm down the behemoth Cecil in the corner with headbuts and meows and purring. 

A very disheveled Coulson burst through the door just in time to step on the watch. 

The agent picked it up as red suit of armor with a glowing blue circle in his chest and Clint from the car stepped around him, weapons locked. 

“Well he hadn’t said he could do that!”

Coulson was busy inspecting the watch. “This is a hidden injection weapon. He must have been injected with something, if he’s in that state. And that- hopefully that’s the antidote.” Coulson picked up the antidote as the robotic exoskeleton of possible death leveled a bright blue palm at Cecil, whose eyes were squeezed shut as he muttered something under his breath about somebody named Carlos. 

“And if it’s not?”

“Than we’re probably fucked! Get it in him, Phil!”

Coulson carefully closed the distance between them before stabbing the syringe into his arm and pushing down the plunger, quickly retreating to give Cecil space. 

Clint notched an arrow just in case. 

Cecil’s rocking and shaking slowly tapered off before his eyes opened to look at the room. 

He shrunk as Khoshekh practically launched himself at him like a cannonball, purring and meowing up a storm. 

Cecil gave his head a shake and blinked a few times as his hand went to the antidote injection spot, looking dazed. 

“I…”

His eyes rolled back into his head and he slumped over onto the floor. 

 

\----------

 

Cecil awoke in a white bed surrounded by machines. 

Coulson, a scientist-looking fellow, and… some man with a goatee were arguing through an observation window, using a myriad of hand gestures. 

Khoshekh was sitting on his lap, with his paw newly bandaged and a towel doing a decent job at keeping the acid at bay. 

Well didn’t his head hurt worse than after a night of forgetting. 

He settled in the meantime for petting Khoshekh while watching the argument with a raised eyebrow.

Looked interesting. 

Were they talking about him?

There was a quiet clearing of throat and he turned to see a man in a long black trenchcoat and eye patch standing in the corner. 

“My name is Director Fury. You are Cecil Palmer, yes?”

He pushed himself up on the bed a little to nod. “Mhmm. I take it you have questions?”

Khoskekh made an adorable little ‘mrrrp?’ sound at being woken up before yawning and shifting to go back to sleep. 

Both men smiled fondly at Khoshekh. 

“Is he your cat?”

“Yep. I take it you have one yourself?”

“Yes. Goose. He may not technically be a cat, but that doesn’t really matter.”

He nodded in agreement. “If it meows like a cat, rubs against your hand like a cat, purrs like a cat, and has the general air of a cat it must be a cat?”

“Exactly. Now, onto business.”

Cecil shifted his shoulders. “What do you want to know?”

“What exactly happened?”

After a brief intake of breath he started to tell the story. 

 

\----------

 

The voice speaking made the story pass by in a blink of an eye. 

But it didn’t make the information contained any less disturbing. 

“Garret? Are you sure?”

“That’s what the agent at the door called him when he introduced us. He offered me a job. I declined.”

“What sort of drug did he inject you with?”

“A... hallucinogenic concoction he called Nightmare Venom. It, uh, caused temporary paralysis before full-body spasms and vivid hallucinations.”

“I take it the… growing was a side effect?”

Cecil looked down and picked at the blanket. 

“Mr. Palmer?”

“Call me Cecil. And… no. It wasn’t a side effect.”

There was a faint intake of breath from Fury. “Mutation?”

“It’s a long story.”

“I have time. Lab experiment? Magic?”

“Er… let’s stick with mutation.”

Fury narrowed his eye at him before letting it go. “Alright. Are you willing to tell me what you hallucinated?”

“No.” That answer was quick and sharp.

“It might help us create more antidotes for-”

“It wasn’t dazzling lights, or pink elephants, or any of that if that’s what you need. But no, I won’t be sharing.”

“Cecil, please-”

A hand twitched as Cecil visibly curled in on himself. “It… was kind of like a flashback.”

Fury nodded. “Alright. It must have been quite the flashback to warrant that kind of reaction, judging on Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff’s impressions of you.”

Cecil remained hunched over, picking at the blanket with distant eyes. 

A frown of concern from the director. “Cecil?”

“I… really don’t like flowing water or enclosed spaces. Let’s just leave it at that.”

Fury managed to put two and two together and winced. “I see. Alright, how are you feeling?”

“A bit of a headache, but other than that not too bad. What about Khoshekh, did he reinjure his paw?”

“Oh, no, our doctors just noticed the old injury and took the time to wrap it up just in case. Actually, there’s-”

The three men who had been arguing outside had forced themselves into the room. 

Scientist guy coughed into his fist. “Uh- if the growing thing was a side effect of the drug-”

“It wasn’t, but thank you Doctor Banner.”

 Banner deflated in relief. “Oh. Good. Because I was having trouble thinking of- wait. Do we have another Hulk situation here?”

Goatee looked more than delighted at the prospect. “Green Bean here’s getting a friend? Oh that’s great!”

“I do not believe this is a Hulk situation, no.”

Cecil picked at his blanket. Khoshekh remained asleep. 

Goatee frowned for a second but shrugged. “Alright. Saves me effort. Hey, do I owe Phil 300 dollars?”

Fury raised an eyebrow. “What are you betting on?”

“Did you offer him the Avengers program yet?”

“What- no. I wasn’t planning on it either.”

Coulson held out his hand with a smirk. Goatee groaned before putting a small stack of folded bills in the agent’s hand. 

“Why must you two bet on things like this?”

Goatee shrugged nonchalantly. “It’s the best way to profit from educated guesses, so of course we were. X gene, lab accident, or magic? If it wasn’t a side effect of the drug after all, which I’m not going to disprove unless I get it out of the horse’s mouth.”

“Long story.”

“I have time. How about… shortened to five words or less.”

Fury just looked up at the ceiling as if praying for strength. 

“That information is classified.”

Goatee waved him off. “I’ll find it out eventually. So, is it a Hulk kinda thing, where you’re mad or something, or can you do it on command? Because that would be  _ awesome _ .”

Cecil curled in on himself. “I’d rather not answer that question.”

Goatee blinked for a moment before nodding, holding a hand up to his chin in thought before pointing. 

“Was it a lab accident?”

Fury massaged his temples. “Get out, Stark.”

Goatee- or, well, Stark- shrugged and wandered out of the room like he’d expected that answer. 

Banner followed him out. Coulson moved to sit in the chair Fury had blatantly ignored for standing in the corner. 

Cecil looked up. “Can I go?”

“Information wise, go right ahead. Health wise, you might want to stay to make sure the toxins are out of your system.”

“I think I could probably make sure of that at home.”

“Oh, and we got a new carrier for your cat.”

Coulson handed over a- dang that was reinforced and everything. 

“It should be able to handle acid for… an extended amount of time.”

“Thank you.” Cecil carefully scooped up Khoshekh and a ripple ran through his form, replacing the classic hospital attire with something more fitting as he rolled his shoulders with a slight ‘crack’ noise. 

“So you  _ can _ change more than just your size…”

Needless to say, Cecil was journeying back to Nightvale rather quickly. 

He missed Carlos. 


End file.
